


Even in the suburbs, everything is connected

by everythingremainsconnected



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Farah has a Daughter who is Definitely a Person of Interest, Five Years Later, Happy families, M/M, Post-CIA Adventures, Slice of mildly suburban life with bonus intrigue and violence, Violence really goes up a notch in chapter 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9150766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingremainsconnected/pseuds/everythingremainsconnected
Summary: Five years or so after The CIA Incident Farah, Todd and Dirk got their almost happily ever after, doing their best raising Farah's daughter Minnie in the suburbs of Seattle. It all goes a bit awry when Amanda shows up with the Rowdy Three and a warning of danger to come.





	1. Chapter 1

“Have you taken all the photos down?” 

“Yes. Mostly yes. Everything except the hall montage.” 

“Dirk!” 

“Well, I had to prioritise. You’ve taken the boxes of good crockery to your parents’?” 

Todd sighed as he ran to the hallway and started ripping picture frames off the wall, some with the hook still attached. “Yes, the crockery is gone. My instruments are with the neighbours, the TV is hidden in the attic,” he listed, getting the last frame down and carrying them awkwardly. Dirk took a few from his grasp. “I think that’s everything. Will it be enough?” 

Dirk stared, his eyes wide. His chin started to shrink into his neck a little bit like it did whenever he was stressed. “I hope so.” 

That was when they heard it: a rumbling, thrumming, choking sound coming from some sort of vehicle. Dirk and Todd knew it to be a badly spray painted black van with piles of junk attached to the top, occupied by energy-sucking anarchists – and Todd’s sister, whom he hadn’t seen in over five years. No big deal. 

“Quick!” Dirk ran for the attic ladder, awkwardly climbing and throwing frames up into the roof space. Todd followed. Glass smashed. 

“What on earth are you doing?” Farah leaned against the wall, arms across her chest. 

“They’re coming, Farah, we have to hide as many breakables as possible.” Dirk retorted as he slithered down the attic ladder. 

Farah snorted. “Come on. Amanda said they’d behave themselves this time.” 

“I appreciate the attempt at controlling the _literal_ walking apocalypse that is the Rowdy Three, but natural forces simply cannot be contained.” Dirk said in his know-it-all tone. 

The growling van drew closer, and Dirk gripped Todd’s arm firmly. His eyes were uncomfortably wide. 

“Did you at least get Minnie ready?” Farah asked, tired but trying to keep an even temper. 

“Papa picked my outfit!” A tiny voice exclaimed. Little feet came running and were attached to Farah’s almost-five-year-old daughter Minnie. She wore a white dress with one of Dirk’s skinny ties over the top and the most adorable, yet ridiculous, tiny yellow leather jacket. 

“Oh my gosh, Dirk,” Farah exclaimed, clearly faking her joy for Minnie’s sake. “Don’t you look a picture!” 

Todd hissed out of the corner of his mouth, “I’m sorry Farah, I wasn’t watching them.” 

“Daddy, look!” Minnie turned to Todd and twirled her dress and jacket combo. 

“It’s great, honey,” Todd said, a little distracted. The van was getting closer still. “Come on, let’s meet them at the door.” 

“Hurray hurray hurray!” Minnie called, running to the front door, her beautiful tight curls bouncing along behind her. 

Dirk followed close on her heels, calling out “don’t open the door without Papa!” He sounded more than a little panicked. 

“Are you going to be ok?” Farah asked quietly, linking her arm through Todd’s as they followed. “You haven’t spoken to her in a long time.” 

Todd tried not to panic. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine, right?” 

Farah smiled, “I’m sure it will.” 

“It’ll be fine.” Todd repeated. 

Dirk stood in the open doorway, his hands gripping Minnie’s little shoulders to hold her still. Todd moved beside his husband, putting an arm around Dirk’s waist. Farah flanked Dirk on the other side and linked her arm through his. 

The van pulled up rather more sedately than the little family had been expecting; the first one to exit was Amanda. Minnie was almost vibrating with excitement. 

“Who’s that Daddy?” Minnie whispered. 

“That’s your Aunt Amanda,” Todd replied, feeling the breath leave his body. She hadn’t changed, not really. Her hair was shorter, and wild, and there was an ease to her movements that Todd hadn’t seen since before she got sick. 

Next was Martin, imposing and lethal, moving close behind Amanda. He wasn’t carrying a weapon, but Todd knew it didn’t really matter. Martin was a weapon all on his own. 

“And that’s your Uncle Martin,” Todd said weakly. “And Uncle Gripps, and Uncle Cross, and Uncle Vogle.” Todd named each of the Rowdy Three, now definitely five, as they disembarked from the van. There wasn’t a weapon in sight. 

The Rowdy Three, who usually moved as a torrent of violence, approached the neat suburban house slowly. Dirk found it infinitely more terrifying that the usual run-and-shout approach. Amanda set eyes on Minnie and squealed. 

“Minnie!” She cried and broke into a run, her leather jacket flapping behind her. Vogle went to follow, and Martin caught him by the collar of his shirt and kept him in formation. Amanda came to a skidding halt on her knees and stared. “You have your mama’s eyes,” she blinked back happy tears as she looked up at Farah. 

“Sweetie,” Farah crouched down by her daughter, “would you like to hug your Aunt Amanda?” 

Amanda put her arms out and Minnie, overcome by unusual shyness, cautiously approached before throwing herself at her aunt. Amanda felt tears rolling down her face. “Cool jacket,” she looked up at Dirk. 

“Papa got it for me! It matches!” Minnie jumped away and pulled on the edges of Dirk’s matching jacket, grinning. 

Amanda looked at Dirk quizzically at Minnie calling him ‘papa’. “It sure does.” She stood and pulled Farah into a crushing hug. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

It was Farah’s turn to get a little weepy. “Right back at you.” 

“You haven’t changed a bit.” 

“Not that you can see. I’ve got stretchmarks from knees to my chin.” Farah laughed. 

“You never really did explain that one to me,” Amanda pulled away and glanced pointedly at Minnie. She turned to Dirk. “You crazy bastard, how’ve you been?” 

“Oh, you know, avoiding certain death and psychic vampires, the usual.” He blustered, never taking his eyes off the unnervingly quiet Rowdy Three. 

“They aren’t going to hurt you Dirk. Probably. They just like the way you taste, that’s all.” Amanda patted his shoulder and smiled. Steeling herself she finally looked at her brother. He still had that air of waiting for the next punch from the universe, but his face was a little fuller and his shoulders didn’t drag under the weight of the world. “Married life agrees with you.” 

A wound reopened in Todd’s heart. Amanda hadn’t been at the wedding and while he couldn’t entirely blame her it still hurt like hell. “Rowdy life agrees with you.” 

Amanda grinned and looked over her shoulder at her little strange family. “They sure do, don’t you boys?” On cue, they howled their agreement, Martin the loudest of them all. He never took his eyes off Amanda. 

“You said they were going to behave!” Todd hissed, glancing nervously around his neighbourhood. The family situation at the Black-Brotzman-Gently residence was already viewed peculiarly and Todd didn’t want it to get worse, particularly as Minnie was attending the local school. 

Amanda fixed Todd with a somewhat patronising glare. “Todd, for them, this is model-citizen style. Cut them some slack.” As she spoke Martin came up behind her and glared at Todd. It was markedly uncomfortable. 

“Would you like to come in?” Farah invited. 

Dirk whimpered. 

The spacious kitchen-dining suite at the back of the house easily fit the Rowdy Three and the Black-Brotzman-Gently family. Todd served drinks and snacks while Farah and Amanda chattered away at the table like they’d never been apart. Martin sat so close to Amanda that she could lean against him as she spoke. He draped one arm across her shoulders and Amanda absently played with his hand resting on her knee. The normally ferocious Martin didn’t mind at all. 

Todd tried not to stare. 

Dirk sat opposite, on the literal edge of his seat, watching for the slightest hint from the Rowdies that would signal his imminent demise, or at least the demise of the beautiful furniture. 

The remaining Rowdies played a somewhat spirited game of tea party with Minnie near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a manicured back yard. 

“Are they ok with tea sets?” Farah asked pointedly, watching known violent offenders pour imaginary tea for a nearly-five-year-old. 

“They’re fine,” Martin said quietly. 

“They have been so excited to meet her. We all have.” Amanda looked over at the little girl who seemed to be allocating tiaras to grown men. “I’m sorry it took so long.” 

Todd sat at last, slamming the last plate of food on the table as his temper wore thin. “You must have been busy.” 

“Hey,” Amanda glared at him, “you of all people should understand. We follow the interconnectedness of all things just as much as Dirk.” 

Dirk flinched. “If we could keep all attention away from me at this point in the proceedings I would really appreciate it.” 

Sensing his discomfort, Martin looked at him for just a little bit too long before returning his watchful gaze to Amanda. Dirk broke out in a sweat. 

“You drive around at random and break things,” Todd hissed, “I’m not sure it really counts for anything.” 

“I’m glad I asked the boys to mind their manners for the trip, suddenly we look like the nice guys.” Amanda shot back. 

“Why did you come back?” Farah asked, her voice low. “For the last few years all your emails have talked about following the universe, and it’s never led you back to us yet. Why now?” 

Amanda gripped Martin’s hand tightly. She gulped. “Minnie.” 

Panic surged in Farah’s body, driving her to her feet. She easily picked up her daughter from the tea party and put her in Todd’s arms, drew a gun and assumed a defensive position over her little family. 

“Mama?” Minnie looked at her clearly distressed mother with confusion. 

“Todd, Dirk, take her upstairs. We are in Formation Bear. _Go_.” Farah instructed. 

Dirk, looking a bit like he was about to vomit, didn’t move. “I think I’d better stay for this part.” 

“Todd, Formation Bear. Now.” Farah instructed. 

Todd obeyed immediately, getting to his feet. “Come on honey, let’s go play upstairs.” 

“But Daddy, I wasn’t done with the tea party! It was time to crown Princess Uncle Vogle!” Minnie pouted. Vogle waved as they left. 

Martin tilted his chin at the Rowdies, and Cross followed Todd and Minnie up the stairs. Gripps stayed by the window and Vogle went to the front door. 

“You can’t be serious,” Farah whispered, her gun still drawn. “Why are you following her? Are you – are you _guarding_ this house? What from? From who?” Her gun grip started to shake. “She’s just a little girl. _My_ little girl.” 

“Our little girl.” Dirk corrected with a smile. 

“You’re not _actually_ her dad, are you?” Amanda asked, disbelieving. 

“No,” Farah answered, “her actual dad disappeared before she was born. We’ve never been able to find him. Dirk and Todd are her dads in all the ways that matter.” 

Amanda sat back, shaking her head. “Wait, if _you_ can’t find this guy,” she looked at Dirk. 

“I know!” Dirk was appalled. 

“When did he disappear?” Martin asked. 

Farah stared at him for a second before remembering how to speak. “Not too long after we all met. We’d only been out a few times,” 

“A few times with optional clothing,” Amanda interjected knowingly. 

“Yes, a few of those,” Farah looked briefly uncomfortable before continuing, “but not long after Lydia left, he stopped answering his phone. He’d never done anything like that before, so we started looking into it. By the time Minnie was born, we’d given up finding him. It’s like you said, if Dirk can’t do it.” She shrugged. A million things were tumbling through her mind and she tried to think clearly. 

Amanda cleared her throat. “Minnie’s nearly five, right?” 

“Her birthday’s next week. She wants a Corvette.” Farah replied. She could feel her eyes burning with tears. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand.” 

“They came for me when I was five,” Dirk volunteered, his voice so low it was barely audible. 

“Us, too.” Martin nodded. 

“They? They who?” Farah demanded. 

Dirk stared into the distance. “The CIA.” 

Farah gaped. “They’re supposed to be done with people like you! That whole project is supposed to be over! And what does that have to do with my daughter?” 

“She’s like me.” Dirk said, his chin wobbling. “I didn’t want it to be true, I kept explaining away the little signs and tells, hoping I was just,” he sighed raggedly, “imagining things, or trying to project my complete lack of childhood onto my own precious daughter.” Dirk looked so utterly lost. “Our abilities become irrefutably clear at the age of five.” 

Staring at him, her dark eyes wide, Farah stammered, “how could you keep this from me?” 

“I couldn’t believe it!” Dirk cried. “I couldn’t believe that the universe could be this cruel to us, after _everything_ we’ve done. I didn’t want to believe it. I’m so sorry.” 

“That’s why we came back,” Amanda tried to diffuse the situation. “Martin felt something bad coming this way. We had to come back.” 

“If you were called here, does that mean _Bart_ is going to be drawn here too?” Farah asked. 

Amanda snorted. “Good luck explaining her to the neighbours.” At that moment, a black cat jumped onto the table with a little squeak. Amanda recoiled. “Is that – _the_ cat?” 

Dirk petted the cat absently. “She’s on kitty Prozac and hardly ever unleashes a shark soul.” 

“That’s a shame, we might need her.” Amanda looked at the cat speculatively. She gripped Martin’s hand tightly and felt him squeeze back. 

Farah finally sat down. “You can’t seriously think that someone is going to try and recruit my daughter into some revived version of a fucked up psychic academy to turn her into a weapon?” 

“We hope not,” Amanda became serious, “but it never hurts to have some extra support, right? We’ll stick around a few days, see how it all feels,” she glanced at Martin, and he nodded in support, “and go from there. Right? And in the meantime, let’s keep the shades drawn.”   
*   


Later that evening, Amanda peeked out of the corner of the guest bedroom window, glimpsing Vogle lurking in the shadows of the front lawn. “Are you sure they’re going to be ok? A week is a long time.” 

Martin came out of the half-bath ensuite in a towel. He easily wrapped Amanda in a hug and she folded into him with a grateful sigh. She loved the smell of him. “We’ll let off steam every now and again,” he assured her, burying his face in her wild hair. “We’re meant to be here right now. They’ll be ok.” 

“Whatever it takes, I guess.” Amanda put the current situation from her mind. Five years with the Rowdy Three had taught her a lot and one of the biggest lessons was living in the moment. This moment had a giant, real bed, something not often found in their adventures. 

“How bad do you think it squeaks?” Martin whispered, his mouth against her ear. His deep voice made Amanda shiver pleasantly. He could read her so well. 

“How bad do you think we could _make_ it squeak?” Amanda pulled away just far enough to kiss him, and once he was thoroughly distracted, she yanked the towel away. He laughed and it was wicked and full of promise. Amanda wore only an old shirt of his and he pulled the front open easily, pressing his body into hers. She gasped in mock surprise as he lifted her up and took her to bed. 

The bed didn’t squeak as much as Amanda had expected, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.   
*   


“Dirk, are you sure this is a good idea?” Todd asked. 

“You have already said that about eighty-seven times since dinner.” 

They stood in their spacious en suite, having a hushed conversation for fear of being heard by Minnie and Farah. 

“It’s the best idea we have, and as amazing as Farah is, she’s just one woman! I’m just one man, although an incredibly handsome one,” Dirk flirted shamelessly, attempting to get a smile from Todd, “and you’re just one man as well, also incredibly handsome but not as effective at the whole holistic approach as, say, me.” Dirk stepped into Todd’s space and placed his arms around Todd’s neck. “As much as it absolutely pains me to say it, if we need to protect our daughter,” he gulped, “having the Rowdy Three nearby is our best chance.” 

Todd sighed and rested his forehead against Dirk’s shoulder. “I know. I just didn’t realise having Amanda here would be so hard.” 

“Is that all?” 

“I’m serious,” Todd protested, “I never thought she’d miss my wedding. We were talking again, after what I did, and I never even thought I’d get married, and she missed it.” 

“Precious,” Dirk kissed him gently, “if she wasn’t called here, it wasn’t meant to be.” 

“You don’t get it. I called her. I asked her to come and she never did.” 

Dirk pulled his husband into his arms. He never was very good at comforting people, but he tried his best.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy suburban life suffers a minor disruption in the form of a psychic vision.

Amanda was not at all used to the suburban lifestyle. The next morning she sat at the kitchen table in a clean, huge house, and felt unbelievably uncomfortable. Dirk put a cup of hot coffee in front of her that really didn’t do much for her comfort but was at least delicious. 

“Where’s your paramour?” Dirk asked, wiggling his eyebrows worryingly above his own steaming mug. He wore a bright yellow dressing gown with matching pyjama set and slippers. Amanda had on ripped jeans and Martin’s shirt. 

“Took Vogle out for a bit,” Amanda explained. “The Rowdies need a little downtime. Pretending to fit into _this_ is exhausting.” She gestured around the palatial home. 

“Does that mean _you_ need ‘downtime’ too?” Dirk pretended not to be hurt. 

Amanda just smiled. “I get my fix another way.” 

“I’ll bet you do.” Dirk took the hint and gyrated his eyebrows around his face some more. 

Gripps stalked into the kitchen, ignored Dirk’s dancing brows, and poured his own cup of coffee to drink in one go. Walking by Amanda on the way out he ruffled her hair and skipped away. Faster than Dirk could follow Amanda was out of her chair and half-tackling Gripps out of the kitchen, clinging onto his back like a little monkey. She climbed down after a moment of laughing and gave him a tight hug before he left. 

“What. Was. That.” Farah asked, Minnie on her hip as she entered the kitchen. 

“What?” Amanda sat back with her coffee. “You never hug your family?” She couldn’t explain that with both Martin and Vogle out of their immediate vicinity, she, Gripps and Cross felt lonely and sought extra comfort from one another. They were a family and being apart didn’t suit them at all. When they’d been separated all those years ago it wasn’t so bad; she’d only been a Rowdy for a few beautiful days and she didn’t feel the bone-deep ache of their absence as keenly. She’d missed Martin incredibly, of course, but hadn’t fully understood why Vogle had clung to her so constantly. 

“Hug, yes. Crash tackling before breakfast? Not usually.” 

“Mama what’s a crash tackle? Can I crash tackle?” Minnie asked as she was sat beside her aunt. 

“Not until you’re older, sweetie,” Farah replied on autopilot. Dirk handed her a coffee. Farah took it but otherwise ignored him. 

“Did you get much sleep?” Amanda asked, taking in Farah’s huge yawn. 

“Did _you_?” Dirk once again set his brows to dancing. 

“You never did explain that,” Farah mimicked Amanda’s own words from the previous day. 

“What’s to explain?” She shrugged. 

Dirk chortled. “You could start with how you came to be boink-” 

“AH HEM,” Farah interrupted, looking from Dirk to her daughter with daggers for eyes. 

Dirk cleared his throat. “How you came to be _bestest best friends_ with the leader of the Rowdy Three. How? How are you still alive? And not dead? Or arrested?” 

“It just is.” Amanda replied easily. There was nothing to explain; her and Martin just _were_ , and were very happy about it. “So how did you propose to Todd?” 

“Hang on, how do you know _I_ asked _him_?” Dirk refuted, clearly thinking he was very clever indeed. 

Amanda gave Dirk a _look_. He crumbled. 

“Of course it was me doing the asking, who are we kidding.” Dirk rushed to sit beside Amanda. 

“It was a beautiful spring day-” 

“It rained for twelve hours straight,” Todd interrupted, stalking into the kitchen. He paused to kiss Dirk before pouring coffee. 

Dirk smiled happily, watching his adorable short angry husband, and continued. “Despite the rain, it was a beautiful day. I’d planned a romantic tour of a winery nearby with tasting plates and cheeses and, you know, _wine_.” 

“How very suburban.” Amanda smiled tightly as if in pain. 

“But because the weather was so _rubbish_ we only stayed there maybe an hour, bought a crate of wine and, quite frankly, far too much cheese for two people, brought it home and had a picnic here in the kitchen.” 

Todd sat beside his husband and put a casual hand on Dirk’s knee. “You were lying on the floor, convinced of your death via cheese consumption, and said that I’d better make an honest man of you before your untimely expiry.” For the last few words of that sentence Todd smiled, really smiled, and looked at Dirk with so much love. He neglected to mention the amusing food-coma sex they’d had on the kitchen floor immediately after the proposal. 

“And it was just as well, really, as I got food poisoning from the place we’d been out to breakfast that same morning and couldn’t leave the bathroom for a week.” 

Amanda grimaced. “That’s so sweet.” 

“Is Martin good to you?” Farah asked. She looked at Amanda sharply. It was hard for her to get past what she knew of the Rowdy Three and their chaotic violent tendencies. 

“Better than good,” Amanda reassured her friend. She suddenly sat up straight, alert, her head cocked as if she could hear music from a distance. In a way, that’s exactly what it was. 

Farah saw the change and immediately went to Minnie. “What is it? What?” 

“They’re back!” Amanda squealed and ran for the door. She opened it just in time for Vogle to launch himself at her with a happy yell. Amanda held him tight and even spun him around a little; she was stronger than she looked. Releasing him and ruffling his hair, she pushed him toward the kitchen. He’d be heading for Cross next who stood guard over the back lawn. 

Amanda turned to see Martin stalking toward her, his pace deliberate. She gripped the lapels on his vest and pulled him inside, pushed him up against a wall recently liberated of its photo frame arrangement, and kissed him. Hard. Martin returned the favour. He held her close and ran his hands down Amanda’s back. 

Dirk and Todd had cautiously followed, and saw them pressed together against the wall. “Aren’t you glad we took down the frames?” 

“They were barely gone a few hours,” Todd puzzled. 

Amanda pulled Martin to the opposite wall, leaning against it as he started kissing along her jaw and neck. She closed her eyes and held Martin to her by gripping his hips tightly. 

“We should go,” Dirk stammered awkwardly. He and Todd hurried back to the kitchen. 

“Is everything alright?” Farah asked nervously, still standing right beside Minnie. 

“Fine, fine,” Dirk explained, clearly uncomfortable. “I think we should all just take a moment to appreciate the time it took to Rowdy-proof this house.” 

A small crash came from the hallway. “Everything’s fine! I’ll fix that!” Amanda called out.  
*  


The living room was comfortably furnished with soft couches and rugs. Amanda sat on the wide arm of one couch, watching Martin and Minnie construct Lego towers. She could tell Martin wanted to knock it all down but was exercising a huge amount of personal control. With a wicked smile, she looked forward to later, when he would cede _all_ control to her. 

“Would you ever want kids?” Todd asked quietly, totally misinterpreting the look Amanda was shooting at Martin. 

“Not even a little.” 

Todd sat on the couch beside Amanda, clearly at a loss. “If the Rowdy Three came back to protect her, why are _you_ always by her side?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Todd prepared his reasoning, “I’ve seen them in action. They’re insane but powerful. You’re not like that, so how can you keep her safe?” 

“You don’t think people change in five years?” 

“You’re not like them.” Todd insisted. 

“Yes, I am. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

At that, Martin met her eyes and gave her a knowing half-smile. 

Amanda stood and walked by Martin close enough that she could stroke the back of his head as she passed. He growled happily. 

In the kitchen the air was hot and humid; Dirk was baking something requiring the oven on at full force. From his position by the back door, Cross kept looking at him like he was a confusing science experiment. The climate control couldn’t compete and the warm wet air hit Amanda like a hammer. The sudden change made her gasp. 

She was underwater, her lungs filling up with brine, her arms clawing for a surface she couldn’t reach. Her ears pounded. Her lungs screamed. 

“ _Martin!_ ” Cross bellowed, sprinting to catch Amanda as she dropped. He needn’t have bothered; Martin was already running in, Todd and Minnie following close behind. 

“Stay back,” Martin warned Todd, fixing him with a fierce stare, “it could take you too.” 

Todd obediently moved back to the living room entry, safely within the climate control. 

“What’s happening, Daddy? What’s wrong with Aunt Amanda?” Minnie held her dad’s hand. 

“She gets sick like Daddy does sometimes,” Todd explained quietly. 

Martin and Cross stood above Amanda’s writhing body and the sound of air sawing in her chest filled the room. Vogle and Gripps came running in and went straight to her. 

“Ready boys?” Martin asked. The Rowdies began to feed on Amanda’s hallucinatory energy, filling the air above her with a purple haze as they breathed it in. It didn’t take long for Amanda’s body to slacken and her breathing returned to normal. She was unconscious. 

Martin knelt beside her and gathered her up in his arms. “We got you, Rowdy Girl,” he whispered. “We got you.”  
*  


A confusing splash of images flew across Amanda’s eyes: a burning building, a cat, a radio set to static, a tree, shoes. They meant nothing to her but didn’t stop, flashing through on repeat like a series of demented film stills. 

She sat up with a gasp and found her lungs working just fine. Martin held her and she relaxed into his arms. He kissed her hair as she tried to remember how to use her body. 

Vogle, Cross and Gripps returned to their stations, smiling at Amanda’s recovery. 

“Do they happen often?” 

“Not that big. Usually.” Amanda answered her brother, slowly sitting up on her own. Martin stayed close to her as she got to her feet. 

“I am _so sorry_ ,” Dirk leaned against the oven with wide eyes. “I thought maybe everyone could use some snacks.” 

“I think I need some air,” Amanda said quietly. She took Martin by the hand and led him out the back door, closing it firmly behind them. She sat on the perfectly manicured lawn and pulled Martin down behind her, resting against him for maximum body contact. Martin wrapped his arms around her and let the smell of her wild hair surround him. 

“Same vision as last time?” Martin asked quietly. He lit a cigarette and passed it to Amanda. 

“And the time before that, and the time before that.” 

Martin didn’t bother spouting out empty words to try and make her feel better. He could sense her emotions just as well as she could his; there was no point in filling silence for the sake of it. 

After taking a long drag on the cigarette, Amanda passed it back to Martin with a sigh. “I was hoping they’d stop once we got here. Or change, or mean something, you know? The cat just isn’t enough to go on. It could mean literally anything.” 

“We are where we’re supposed to be.” 

Amanda snorted. “Don’t you ever just wish we could get a nice _note_ from the universe? I feel like a psychic weathervane blowing in a storm.” 

At that Martin chuckled; the rich vibration rumbled through his chest and made Amanda smile. She turned her face to brush against Martin’s short beard. 

Farah stood at the windows in the kitchen watching the pair being so kind and gentle to one another. She stared. “I just don’t get it.” 

Behind her Dirk cleared his throat. 

“I do _not_ want to hear from you right now.” Farah warned. “Remember the bit where you kept a _massive secret_ from me and now my _daughter_ is in danger? Yeah. Still pissed.” Anger rolled off her. She stalked to the living room without looking at Dirk again. 

Dirk leaned against the kitchen bench, his eyes remaining uncomfortably wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about wineries in Seattle, so let's call it a literary device and move on... Comments appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew a birthday party could be so dangerous?

A few uneventful days later, morning light bathed the kitchen through gauzy drapes. Minnie made her way through a bowl of cereal in strange company; Cross was showering the floor and table with toast crumbs and Gripps was slamming coffee like an addict. In strolled Martin, all coiled contained violence, and poured Minnie a glass of orange juice. 

“Do you want to come to my party?” Minnie asked with her mouth full. 

Martin looked at her blankly, an unlit cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Everyone gets a party at kindy when it’s their birthday. You should come.” Minnie decided. 

“Party? At kindy?” Martin looked at her over the top of his glasses. He frowned. 

“Yeah, it’s today. This afternoon. We get cake.” 

Martin looked toward the door and Amanda came in a moment later. 

“What?” She looked at him closely. “What happened?” 

“She has a party at kindy today,” Gripps explained. 

“What? No. That can’t happen.” Amanda shook her head. 

Minnie’s lip trembled. “But, but it’s for my birthday. There’s cake.” 

Amanda left the kitchen. “Farah!” Storming into Farah’s spacious bedroom she felt panic fighting with rage. “You cannot be serious right now!” 

“What’s going on?” Farah stood in front of the wardrobe that was half clothes and half weaponry. 

“You’re going to send her to _kindy_?” Amanda shouted. “Are you _insane_?” 

Farah rallied. “Its just kindergarten. They have a cake and sing her ‘happy birthday’ and play games. She’s been looking forward to it for weeks. How bad could it be?” Amanda gripped Farah by the shoulders. “Ow,” Farah looked down at her friend’s hands that possessed a surprising amount of strength. 

“This isn’t a game,” Amanda warned, “this is serious. This is _bad_.” 

“You think I don’t know that?” 

Amanda released her to pace agitatedly. “I’m starting to wonder.” 

“Jesus,” Farah closed her bedroom door. “I’m not stupid, ok? I got this!” 

“These people do not fuck around, Farah.” 

“Here’s something you may not understand,” Farah said in a dangerous voice. “I will do anything for my daughter, and that means helping her dreams come true while I still can. The dreams of a five-year-old are simple.” She smiled. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy.” 

“What about safety? You don’t seriously expect the Rowdy Three to go to her school, do you?”  
*  


A few hours later Amanda sat in the Rowdy van’s front seat beside Martin, sharing a cigarette with him. The Rowdies’ nerves were wound tight and they were unusually quiet. 

“It’s just a few hours,” Amanda tried to make herself feel better. 

“Just a few hours, no problem!” Vogle joined in. He wasn’t convinced. 

At Farah’s request the van didn’t play any music and followed at a discreet distance. They parked half a block from the school. 

“Cross, stay in the van. Gripps, wait at the bus stop opposite. Vogle, you’re with us.” Martin reached for Amanda and rested a hand on the nape of her neck. He leaned in, rested his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes for a moment as he breathed her in. “Let’s go.” 

The remaining Rowdies met Farah, Todd and Minnie by the school’s gate. Dirk couldn’t get out of meeting with a client and Farah was certainly glad not to look at him right now. Amanda had convinced Vogle to scrub his face clean but there wasn’t much to be done about both his and Martin’s default setting of ‘intimidating’. Both had even toned down their Rowdy look, wearing jeans with minimal holes, clean-ish collared shirts and no leather _anything_. Amanda had borrowed a belted dress from Farah but kept her battered combat boots that may or may not be capable of hiding a knife each. With her arms exposed, Todd noted a few new tattoos peeking out of the sleeves of the dress. 

“Don’t you look nice,” Farah tried, somewhat unconvincingly, noting the toned down attire. “Ready for your party, sweetie?” She held Minnie’s hand tightly. 

“We should go in,” Amanda agreed. Standing in the open was making her nervous. She glanced at Martin and he nodded. 

Martin led the way, followed by a very excited Minnie holding onto Farah and Todd’s hands. Amanda and Vogle brought up the rear; she kept patting the pockets of the dress, making sure the twin knuckle-dusters were still there. It never hurt to be too prepared. 

No adult was prepared for the party chaos. There were streamers and balloons and screaming children – so many children. A few capable and entirely unfrightened teachers were supervising the masses and the leader approached the Rowdy-Black-Brotzman group with a smile. 

“Farah, Todd, it’s so lovely to see you again,” she said genuinely. She was middle-aged, pale, and sensibly dressed in slacks and a sweater. “Minnie, are you ready for a party?” 

Minnie needed no encouragement. She kicked off her pretty shoes and ran into the fray without a backward glance. Her beautiful natural curls and apparent height advantage made her a standout in the classroom. Amanda was relieved that it would be easy to spot her niece in a crowd. 

“You know we’re happy to have family guests,” the teacher looked the Rowdies over nervously, “attend children’s special days, but we will have to get you to sign in as registered visitors.” 

“Of course,” Farah smiled, “Minnie was just so excited that we couldn’t wait.” She watched her daughter fondly before bracing herself for the introductions. “Harriett, this is Todd’s sister Amanda, Amanda’s husband, Martin,” Farah barely paused as she explained him, “and Martin’s brother Vogle.” She tried not to look as nervous as she felt. With Vogle’s clear Malaysian-Hong Kong heritage and Martin’s mostly Scandinavian ancestry there would definitely be gossip about it later. “Minnie and I are very lucky to have such a wonderful extended family.” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Harriett replied with a kindly smile. 

“Todd, could you take everyone to the office to sign in? I’ll wait here.” Farah said it like a suggestion but it was definitely an order. 

Minnie came running up and slammed into Vogle’s leg. “Come play, come play!” She ordered. Vogle went to follow her as she dashed away again but was held in place by a sharp cough from Martin. Todd led them from the noisy room and they walked quickly to the office, signing in in record time before rushing back toward Minnie’s classroom. 

Just a few feet away from the door, they heard a scream. 

The Rowdies flew toward the classroom, barging through the frame ready for certain violence. 

“Stand down,” Farah ordered, approaching them quickly. “It’s just pin the tail on the donkey and little Tommy is a sore loser.” 

Sure enough there was a small boy howling in the corner after missing the donkey entirely. 

“They’re very protective,” Todd tried to shrug off the Rowdies’ behaviour in front of the teachers. 

“You never mentioned your sister was married,” Harriett remarked to Todd. “You never really mentioned her at all.” 

“We had a falling out, years ago,” Todd replied with surprising honesty. “We’ve been working on our relationship. For Minnie’s sake. She deserves a family who love each other.” He saw how much Minnie had embraced the Rowdies since their arrival and he couldn’t deny their connection. 

Musical chairs started up. Amanda and Vogle joined in with wanton abandon, causing mild chaos and much giggling with their ridiculous dance moves. Minnie won the game easily, and now that Todd _knew_ she was sensitive to the universe, he could see it so clearly. He wondered how he missed it in the first place. A beat before the music stopped Minnie would already be heading for a chair. 

Farah saw it too. Her heart raced. “We can’t stay all afternoon,” she said, approaching Harriett and Todd, and Martin followed her. “We’ve got a special evening planned. Amanda and the boys aren’t in town for all that long and we want to make the most of it.” 

“Of course, we understand.” Harriett smiled. An awkward silence descended. “So, Martin,” Harriett turned to the quiet man and noted the cigarette behind his ear. “What do you do?” 

He paused for just a moment. “Private security.” 

Harriett smiled, albeit a little weakly. “Of course. That must be interesting work. So you’re from out of town?” 

“Yes.” Martin didn’t believe in small talk. 

Amanda joined them with a smile. “We’ve got a few offices here and there but we’re mostly based out of Sacramento.” 

“That is quite the drive,” Harriett was clearly relieved for the conversation. 

“It is, but so worth it.” Amanda looked so happy. 

Suddenly Martin turned and dove for Minnie, scooping her up in his arms as his psychic pulse hit Amanda. The ground started shaking, rattling chairs and tables and emitting the truly strange rumbling of an earthquake. The kids started to get scared and a few began to cry. 

“Alright everyone, it’s just an earthquake, and what do we do in an earthquake?” Harriett called, her voice clear over the noise as she hustled children under tables. “We drop, cover, and hold on.” She and the other teachers put children under wobbling tables with practiced efficiency. 

“This ain’t no coincidence,” Martin said to Farah, holding Minnie tightly. “If we don’t go now we’ll be endangering these people.” 

It only took Farah a split second to make the call. “We go. Now. Amanda, you come in our car and we all meet back at the house.” Farah took Minnie. “Sorry Harriett, we’ve gotta run!” Farah called out as they left, Martin in front. 

The shaking ground made quick moving difficult, and the rumbling went on for far longer than a regular quake. Amanda put on her knuckledusters and Vogle held a Little League bat, where he’d been hiding it she didn’t know. 

Outside the school Vogle ran for the van, signalling Gripps to abandon his post. Martin waited for Farah and the others to speed off before he leapt in the Rowdy van. As they pulled away from the school the quake stopped. Martin sniffed the air deeply, trying to catch a scent of what was coming their way. 

In Farah’s car she gripped the wheel tightly, cursing herself. “That was so stupid. So _stupid_.” 

“Mama, I left my shoes behind!” Minnie wailed. She started to cry. 

Amanda’s heart stopped. A fragment of her vision flashed in front of her eyes. 

_Shoes._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suburban warfare engulfs the Black-Brotzman-Gently residence, but at least with the universe on their side the police don't get involved.

They screeched to a halt at the Black-Brotzman-Gently residence and tumbled out of the car. Farah ran for the house first, gun drawn, with Todd carrying Minnie and a small sidearm that Amanda desperately hoped he knew how to use. She brought up the rear, dusters on and some distinctly un-hypothetical knives in her hands. The Rowdy van lurched up over the kerb and stopped just shy of the front door. The Rowdies leapt out before the engine died.

Farah led them all to her bedroom that was peculiarly fortifiable for a suburban home. 

“Mama why did we go? I didn’t want to go.” Minnie asked through her tears. Farah pulled her daughter onto the bed and hugged her tight. 

“Sometimes we have to do things that aren’t very fun in order to be safe,” Farah tried to explain. 

“Is it because of the bad man?” Minnie asked. 

Every adult in the room stared at her. 

“Shoes,” Amanda said to Martin in the silence that followed. “Minnie left her shoes behind.” 

Martin went straight to the window and opened it, taking a deep breath of fresh air. “Smell that?” 

The Rowdies could indeed, and Amanda felt it through the weird connection they had. If forced to put words to an emotion with a smell, Amanda would have called it stagnant. 

“What man, Minnie?” Farah failed to keep the panic from her voice. “What man?” 

“The bad man. I have nightmares about him.” 

“Where is Dirk?” Todd asked, checking his phone. “I sent him the code red, and he’s not answering.” 

Amanda felt the bottom of her stomach drop. “What’s coming, Martin,” she asked quietly. 

“I don’t know.” Martin admitted. He slammed the window shut and gripped Amanda in a crushing hug. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers and cupped her face in his hands. “You gotta stay here.” 

“No way. How can you even say that? No freaking way!” 

Martin closed his eyes. “If they put me and our boys in cages again I gotta know someone can get us out. I gotta know you’re alright.” He’d said it to her before, usually when he woke up screaming: _I only survived the cages because you and Vogle were free._

“We need you more than they do.” Farah interjected. “Can you shoot?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Martin said proudly. He kissed Amanda and she clung to his vest; fear broiled in her belly at the thought that these could be their last moments. Without further word Martin left, whistling for the Rowdies to follow him. Each gave Amanda a swift hug before they left. 

Getting her emotions under control was one of the hardest things Amanda had ever done. She never thought she’d live through this again – the pain of being left behind, the fear of what lay ahead, and knowing that Martin wasn’t sure they’d survive. Her heart raced unbearably and her head pounded. 

Amanda busied herself with selecting firearms from Farah’s closet and setting up her station at the window, leaving it open a crack to shoot out of. She watched her Rowdies, her family, pacing the lawn with weapons in their hands. Farah barricaded the door. 

“Where is Dirk?” Todd repeated. His eyes were wide. “I haven’t heard from him since this morning. He was just supposed to be meeting a potential client, no big deal.” Todd checked his phone again. “No big deal. So where is he?” 

“We can’t divide our forces, Todd,” Farah pleaded, “I’m sure he’ll be home before you know it.” 

“Papa’s coming.” Minnie said. 

Farah looked at her daughter closely. “How do you know?” 

Minnie shrugged. 

“What client?” Amanda asked. 

Outside, Martin roared. Todd rushed to the window in time to see half a dozen incredibly suspicious-looking vans came to a screeching halt in front of the house. Dark denim-clad figures erupted from the vehicles and swarmed across the yard. The window cracked and Todd collapsed with a cry, clutching his suddenly bleeding arm. 

“Farah, take the window!” Amanda cried as she fell beside her brother. She dragged him to comparative safety as Minnie watched on from behind the bed. 

“Is it bad?” Todd asked, quickly turning pale. 

Amanda pressed down on his bleeding bicep and her hands quickly turned red. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” 

Todd groaned in pain. If this is how he died, he couldn’t go without finally having the conversation he’d rehearsed in his head for almost four years. “I still can’t believe you missed my wedding.” 

“Seriously? I still can’t believe you lied to me for years, but I started to get over it. After everything _you’ve_ ever done, _that’s_ what you’re hung up on?” Amanda tried not to cry. “I was there, you stupid jerk. I was there. We watched the ceremony from behind the trees. I saw you cry. I saw those stupid doves.” 

“The doves weren’t my idea.” 

“Somehow I’m not surprised.” 

There came the sounds of incredible violence outside. The Rowdy Three were in their element and Amanda itched to be with them where she belonged. 

“Oh my god,” Farah muttered, “it’s _her_.” 

Amanda glanced at Farah and made up her mind. “Minnie, honey, come here,” Amanda called to her niece who was not as afraid as she should have been. She grabbed a scarf from the floor and wadded it against Todd’s bleeding wound. “I need you to press down on Daddy’s arm as hard as you can, alright? As hard as you can.” Minnie did as she was asked, her little face serious. Amanda crept back to the window. 

A new orange-haired woman had waded into the fray. She wielded machetes like baseball bats and cut down enemy after enemy. 

“Bart? Well, at least now maybe we stand a chance?” Amanda tried. 

“What is happening?” Farah whispered. She watched the denim-clad figures crawling over the suburban vista, their faces hidden behind bandanas. “They do _not_ look like CIA.” 

The Rowdy Three waded through the assailants while swinging all manner of blunt weapons, bouncing like berserk rubber balls from victim to victim. 

“How did they find us if they’re not CIA?” Amanda asked. She held her gun ready and followed the melee closely. She shot one of the attackers in the back of the head as he tried to sneak up on Martin. 

Martin gave her one of his most delicious glances before throwing himself into the fray once more. 

“Someone has a gun, so why aren’t they shooting my boys?” Amanda wondered as she looked for the shooter. Her gaze rested on thee vehicles. “They aimed for this window. I bet the guns are in the vans. Better defended.” 

“Don’t even think it,” Farah warned, glancing back at her daughter and injured friend. “We need you.” 

“If they brought guns, then they expect to start shooting at some point. I have to take them out first.” Amanda looked squarely in Farah’s eyes. “You know I’m right. We’re sitting ducks here.” 

Farah agonised for long seconds. A bullet came through the window between them and shattered the glass. Both women flinched backward. “Go. Take lots of firepower. You had better come back to me.” Her eyes were quite damp. 

Amanda had guns across her back, put two extra in her dress belt and carried another two. A couple of flash bombs were stuffed into her dress pocket. Farah was a little impressed that Amanda could proficiently arm herself so quickly; apparently a lot had changed in five years that Amanda didn’t write about in her emails. She let Amanda out and resumed guard by the broken window. 

“You’re doing a great job, sweetie,” Farah smiled encouragingly. “Everything’s going to be alright.” Trying to reassure herself as much as her daughter, Farah gripped her gun tightly. 

“I know,” Minnie agreed, “Papa’s coming.” 

Creeping along the side of the house, Amanda kept behind the ample shrubbery. She would have bet good money that the topiaries were Dirk’s pride and joy. Amanda used the Rowdy van for cover and ducked her way along the fence line, eventually coming at the enemy vans from the rear. She sidled up to the first one, easing the back door open and quickly shooting the assailants inside before they realised she was there. The second van and its occupants met the same fate but it was the third van where things got complicated. 

Lying against one wall with a bloody lip was Dirk, bound and gagged and apparently unconscious. Amanda hesitated in shock and the pause nearly killed her. One of the shooters saw her and fired wide, grazing her leg. Pain bloomed up her thigh and she felt blood welling up. She shot back immediately, killing him, but the remaining vans had been alerted to her presence. Bullets peppered the vehicle. 

Amanda rushed to Dirk, using a boot knife to cut his restraints. She slapped him a little to wake him. “Come on, come on,” she muttered, sheathing her knife and trying to guard the van door all at once. “Wake up. Come on!” 

Bullets hit the windshield of the van, coming from the next van in the attack line. Dirk finally opened an eye and said “ow.” 

“Oh thank god!” Amanda sighed with relief. “Take this.” She gave him a handgun. She crept toward the shattered windshield and used the butt of her rifle to smash out what was left of the glass. Propping the barrel on the edge she took her shots at the enemy van, neatly taking them out one by one. “Can you walk?” 

“What? I think so? Ow my _face_.” Dirk groggily sat up. 

“Who are these guys?” Amanda kept her eye trained down the barrel, taking pot shots whenever a new enemy appeared. 

Dirk gibbered, “it was all nice and tea and cakes and then someone _hit_ me!” 

“Nice _where_?” Amanda tensed in concentration as she shot. 

“A diner, down town! I can never go to a diner again, that’s just too many coincidences and you know what I always say, there’s no such thing as a coincidence.” 

“Right. Who are they, Dirk?” 

“I’m still working on it.” 

Amanda squeezed the trigger and nothing came out. “Shit.” She discarded the empty rifle and brought up the next gun. “Where are these guys coming from? It’s like a fucking clown car over there.” 

“Ah. Yes, well, perhaps something to that effect might be a bit more accurate than you think?” Dirk looked incredibly uncomfortable. 

“Come again?” 

“I think that maybe they’ve made some sort of dimensional doorway in their vehicle.” 

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” Amanda emptied another clip and looked toward her boys splitting skulls left and right. Even with Bart on their side they couldn’t gain any ground against a bottomless pit of bad guys. “How can you possibly know that?” 

“It all looked a bit familiar,” Dirk muttered, “I rather suspect they stole it from the CIA.” 

“So they’re not CIA?” 

Dirk snorted. “Absolutely not.” 

“I’m running out of guns.” Amanda noted. 

“How about explosives?” 

On the yard, Martin saw corpses pile up around a van. Through the red haze of violence he could see the angle was wrong for them to have been shot from the house. He glanced to the window; Amanda wasn’t up there anymore but he could feel her close by and tried not to panic. 

The enemy van burst into flames. 

In the glowing, smoking aftermath, Martin couldn’t feel Amanda in his head at all. He roared and ran towards the fire. 

“Manda!” Vogle shouted, jumping over corpses to get to the burning van. Cross and Gripps rushed to hold him back. 

Dirk hurled himself at Martin, knocking him off his feet. Martin punched and kicked at Dirk and grabbed him by the throat. “You did this!” He shouted. “Where is she?” 

“I’m pretty sure she’s fine,” Dirk rasped. Oxygen was becoming quite a problem as his answer didn’t satisfy Martin in the least. The Rowdy leader increased the pressure. “Dimensional. Wormhole.” Dirk squeaked. 

“I can’t feel her,” Martin hissed. He was terrified of the gaping space in his head that Amanda had occupied for five years. “ _I can’t feel her_.” 

“Worm. Hole.” Dirk tried again. 

Martin loosened his grip. Slightly. 

Dirk gasped. “That’s why, so many. Dimensional wormhole. Their base. Out of town. Amanda. In the wave. Probably there.” 

“ _Probably_?” Martin growled. He gripped Dirk’s neck tightly. 

“Dirk! Get up here!” Farah called out. She hoped it would be enough to distract Martin. “Todd’s been shot!” 

At that, Dirk panicked properly, struggling against Martin with all the success of a bunny against a panther. 

“Amanda wouldn’t like it if anything happened to Todd while you were busy trying to kill his husband.” Farah pointed out. “Please, let him go.” 

Martin dropped Dirk to the ground and went upstairs. “You boys stay here.” He ordered. Vogle was trying not to cry while Cross and Gripps just looked lost. 

The explosion had finally stemmed the flow of bad guys. Bart looked around at the carnage and the fire and dropped her machetes on the ground. 

“Come on, Ken.” Bart climbed into a working van and started the engine. “These guys are still nutjobs.” Ken appeared from behind a particularly large shrub and got into the van. He waved a little as they left. 

Despite the raw fear spurring Dirk on Martin still beat him to the barricaded door. He kicked it down easily and saw Todd on the floor with Farah and Minnie leaning over him. Dirk ran to his husband, tears leaking from his eyes. Martin pulled Minnie away and sat her on the bed; he knelt before her, holding her shoulders tightly. 

“You know where people are.” Martin said quietly. He did his best to keep his violent energy to himself so as not to frighten the girl before she could help. Inside, he raged. 

Dirk desperately pressed down on Todd’s bleeding arm. “We have to get Todd to a hospital!” 

“I think it’s just a graze. A bad one,” Farah assessed, “if we can stop the bleeding I think he’ll be mostly fine.” 

Todd winced as Farah poked his arm. “Where’s Amanda?” He asked. 

“On the farm.” Minnie answered matter-of-factly. 

“What farm?” Martin looked at her over the top of his glasses. 

Farah gaped. “How did she get to a farm?” 

“Whoever they were, they had a device that makes doorways between places. I think.” Dirk explained. “Amanda destroyed it, but when it broke the doorway pushed _out_ and she went through it. I’m pretty sure. I saw the purple wave expand right before the explosion.” 

“Aunt Amanda is on the farm.” Minnie looked at Martin like he was crazy. She wasn’t far off the mark. 

“Minnie, what are you talking about?” Todd asked weakly. 

Farah gasped. “The farm. Her kindy went on a countryside field trip and they stopped by one of the old corn farms way out of town. That has to be it.” 

“Wrap me up, let’s go,” Todd tried to sit up. He didn’t make it very far. 

“Minnie, I need my first aid kit.” Farah said evenly. “Martin, I need her to help me. We’ll be out of here faster if she helps me.” 

At once Martin let Minnie go and he left the room. He joined the Rowdies on the lawn and they proceeded to absolutely demolish the enemy vans outside. The sounds of smashing glass and denting metal filled the air. 

Minnie helped Farah patch up Todd as best they could while Dirk watched on it stunned silence. The bleeding had slowed at last but Todd was pale from blood loss. 

“They sound like they’re about ready to start on the house,” Todd observed, finally able to sit up on his own. Pain lanced through his arm as he moved. They heard the Rowdy van engine start up. 

“Let’s go.” Farah and Dirk pulled Todd to his feet. Farah armed herself to the teeth and held Minnie’s hand as they went outside. It felt like the danger here was over but it never hurt to be too sure; her paranoia wasn’t a reliable barometer. The mysterious farm probably wasn’t going to be a picnic of any variety and she most certainly didn’t want to take her daughter there. Splitting up was not an option. 

Martin was behind the wheel of the van, revving the engine angrily. “Get in.” 

Farah opened her mouth to argue and caught the murderous glint in his eyes. She directed her little family to the back of the Rowdy’s van and did as she was asked. 

The ride was terrifying. Minnie thought it was the best thing ever, squealing happily at every tyre screech and sharp turn, of which there were many. Farah shouted out directions and tried to keep her voice even. 

Every bump sent a ripple of pain down Todd’s arm and up into his shoulder. He was on the verge of a panic attack, waiting for the disease to overwhelm him in his weakened state, and busied himself with details of his surroundings. As a coping mechanism it wasn’t flawless but anything was better than just waiting to be incapacitated. 

Counting rivet holes in the van walls, the number of empty cans underfoot, and finally looking at the photos stuck all over the walls and ceiling filled time. In the poor light Todd couldn’t quite make out too many details – but they all looked like polaroid holiday snaps. One was Vogle grinning in front of a sign for the Grand Canyon. Another was Cross smashing the same sign with a crowbar. Yet another one featured a selfie of his sister and Martin in a familiar-looking park with a lot of white-clad figures in the distant background. 

“She was there,” Todd whispered in disbelief. The knot of anxiety living in his chest since his wedding day loosened. 

Dirk gripped his good hand tightly. “I told you, if it was meant to be, she’d be there.” 

“Why didn’t she tell me?” 

Gripps cleared his throat. “It wasn’t the right time. Manda wasn’t ready to talk to you.” 

Todd leaned against his husband. The quiet bitterness he’d held for years suddenly had nowhere to go and he was lost for words. 

“Forgiveness goes both ways, my love.” Dirk said quietly. “You can’t have just expected her to waltz into the ceremony without a care in the world. The two of you have too much baggage for that.” 

“I don’t know what I expected.” Todd admitted. 

“Just because Amanda was furious with you, doesn’t mean she stopped loving you. Perhaps she was angriest about that?” Dirk put his fingertips under Todd’s chin. “Maybe next time you could just try talking to her about it.” He kissed Todd softly and pulled away with a slightly wobbly smile. 

“We need a plan of attack,” Farah declared as they made the last turn onto the back road that would eventually lead to the mysterious farm. The daylight was fading. 

“We show up, we find Amanda, we kill everybody else.” Martin growled with a cigarette in his mouth. He couldn’t entertain the thought that she might be dead; every time he tried the fear began to overwhelm him. 

Farah baulked. “Sure. That’s a plan. Sort of. I was more thinking of one that regular people and their children might have a chance of surviving.” 

“There’s nothing regular about you, or our daughter.” Dirk reminded her quietly. 

As they drove, the van’s music cut out and was replaced by radio static. Martin looked in the rear view mirror at his Rowdies; they knew Amanda’s vision as well as he did. He shut off the stereo and snarled.


	5. Chapter 5

Amanda’s head pounded. The wooden floor was painfully hard underneath her and the last gun tucked into her belt was digging into her hip. The graze on her leg had stopped bleeding but would be one hell of a bruise. She didn’t immediately move but tried to remember the last few minutes of her life.

She’d rushed the enemy van and used her empty rifle as a bludgeon, smashing the butt into faces and throats as she frantically assessed the situation. A purple shadow bloomed behind the driver’s seat and every second or two an enemy emerged. A projector box of some kind sat on the floor. With muscles trained over years of near-constant fighting Amanda had smashed at the box with the rifle to absolutely no effect. She’d pulled out the flash bombs from her pocket, pulled the pins and threw them into the shadow doorway. There was a massive bang and she’d felt an incredible gust of wind blow over her. That was the end of her memories. 

There were voices nearby. She couldn’t hear what was being said. 

The pistol handle was definitely making its uncomfortable presence felt. Amanda slowly rolled over and pulled it from her belt, feeling better with a weapon in her hand. Her boot knives were still there and somehow the knuckledusters were in her pockets; she quickly put them on. Dry blood stained her hands. 

If she still had the gun it meant either they didn’t know she was there or didn’t care that she was armed. Whoever ‘they’ were. The room she was in was almost completely dark with slivers of light beaming through cracks in walls and the door. It smelled of old potatoes. The only other thing in the room was a solid black box, the twin of the one from the van, only this one was dented and its projector-like lens had been cracked. _Good._

The murmuring voices came closer. 

“How did you let her in?” 

They knew she was there, meaning they didn’t care that she was armed. This meant they were either stupid as shit or strong as shit and neither prospect thrilled Amanda. 

“I didn’t! She was just – there! And then the machine broke!” 

“Which one is she?” 

“Not the mother. The other one. According to the file she was neutralised as a child, so how did she end up here? With all of them?” 

_Neutralised? What the hell?_

Footsteps drew closer and waited outside the door. Amanda was glad of the creaky floorboards that gave away everyone’s position and knew she’d have to watch her step on the way out. She rolled to her feet and crept behind the door but allowed enough room for the swing of it. She risked losing her night vision and provoking a pararibulitis attack if she met the light too suddenly. Without her Rowdies nearby, and she tried not to panic at the thought, she would be utterly screwed. She couldn’t feel them in her head, and hoped like hell it just meant that they were too far away. They’d never been so totally separated before, not in five years, and their sudden absence was more than a bit frightening. 

“Make sure you permanently neutralise her. Now. We still need to get the girl.” Footsteps walked away. 

The door was thrust open and Amanda fired at the man who rushed in. He wasn’t bothered by the four bullets shot into his chest at close range. As he lunged Amanda shifted her aim and got him squarely in the lower gut. He dropped with a wounded howl and she savagely kicked his head and back. 

“Who are you?” Amanda demanded, punctuating her words with kicks. 

The man was too-quickly rendered unconscious. Amanda liberated him of his Kevlar vest and strapped it on herself while trying to find any distinctive marks on him. He wore dark denim and had a bandana around his neck and was otherwise completely unobtrusive, and therefore entirely unhelpful. 

After hearing them, whoever they were, talking about needing the girl, a simple escape was no longer an option. Amanda had to take down the threat to her family. 

No wonder Farah was so paranoid all the time. 

Creeping into the light, Amanda listened for tell-tale floorboards. The hallway was empty and the old potato smell persisted. She’d been in enough abandoned structures to guess that this place had been empty for a long time. Judging by the crude lights and wires hanging from the ceiling, and a hum coming from outside, the place was running on generator electricity. That meant it was also nighttime and Amanda tried not to panic. When she’d been at the house it was still afternoon. _How far away am I that the boys haven’t found me?_

There didn’t seem to be anyone in the hall and the rooms leading off it were empty. Amanda crept on, following the strings of lights to an eerie staircase. Brighter lights glowed below and she could hear movement; finding answers was more likely at the bottom of the rotting stairs. 

Descending stairs made of crumbling wood was time consuming. She kept a hand near the equally fragile railing in the thin hope that it might provide some resistance if she fell. The occasional groan of wood was emitted but apparently unnoticed. The generator hum grew louder. 

“I hope her neutralisation has been finalised.” A voice called out from ahead. Amanda immediately had the gun trained on a figure in a white lab coat. Computers and filing cabinets lined the cracked walls and wires ran along the floor. 

“Not quite,” Amanda said with a tight smile. 

The coat-wearer turned around and blinked slowly. It was Harriett from the kindy. 

“Jesus Christ, are you _serious_?” Amanda yelled. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you. You have ten seconds.” 

“If you kill me, you’ll never know how to get rid of your disease.” She said smugly. 

Amanda shot her in the leg. Harriett fell with a cry. “Try again, bitch.” 

“We made a vaccine!” Harriett said through teeth clenched in pain. “It was administered to you as a child. Don’t you want more of it? To live a normal life, without hallucinations?” 

“I don’t need it,” Amanda laughed, “I have the Rowdy Three.” She took aim. 

“What about your brother?” The wounded woman countered. She was sweating. “He doesn’t have the same friends as you. Would you ruin _his_ chances?” 

Amanda paused. “It was ‘administered’ to me? Was that you trying to neutralise me?” 

“Not us,” Harriett insisted, “the CIA. They wanted to cure people like you after their experiments went so wrong.” She gasped in pain. “So they made a vaccine, and I’ve perfected it. Wouldn’t you give anything for your brother?” 

“Maybe.” Amanda shrugged. “But he wouldn’t sacrifice his daughter. Besides, your vaccine must be rubbish coz it wears off. Wait, experiments?” 

Harriett smiled through the pain, thinking she finally had the upper hand. “If you let me live, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” 

Amanda opened her mouth to answer before recognising a tingling feeling in her head. _Martin_. Her heart soared. A moment later she felt Vogle, Gripps and Cross settle back into mind and then heard the dull roar of the van. “How about you tell me whatever I want to know, and I’ll make it painless for you?” 

“The others are coming.” Harriett warned. 

“Funny,” Amanda smiled, “I was just about to say the same thing.” 

  
*  


The van came to a screeching halt in front an allegedly abandoned two-story house. A suspicious amount of light was coming from inside. 

“So, about that plan,” Farah tried again, “we’ll guard the van and the escape route. I can cover you to the house and back, but if you’re not here in fifteen minutes I’m coming in for you.” 

Martin simply nodded before leaping out of the van. 

“Shit,” Farah climbed into the front seat and put the window down, training her gun after the Rowdies as they approached the farmhouse with zero stealth. “Stay low, everybody.” She warned her little family. They hunkered down in the back of the van, Todd and Dirk playing whispered eye-spy with Minnie. 

Martin howled his arrival and ran for the house. 

  
*  


Bandana-wearing henchmen entered the room and approached Amanda cautiously. “If you go with them now, they won’t hurt you. Too much.” Harriett suggested a bit smugly. 

“Oh please,” Amanda emptied her gun before wading in with knuckle-duster fists and fury. Seconds later she heard Martin’s feral howl break out across the landscape, and she hoped like hell he could find her in time. Bad guys kept showing up and as fast as she was, she was outnumbered. 

The sound of splintering wood and ferocious shouting signalled the arrival of the Rowdy Three. Martin made his way to Amanda, felling attackers with a weighted baseball bat. Cross used his crowbar to smash jaws and heads, Gripps wielded a sledgehammer with disturbing ease, and Vogle was everywhere at once with his Little League bat. 

“Don’t let her get away!” Amanda shouted above the noise, pointing at Minnie’s former teacher trying to crawl out of the room. Martin turned to her like a hound on the scent and viciously kicked the woman’s bleeding leg. Amanda ran over and grabbed Harriett’s ankles, yanking her backwards to tie them with her belt. She used Harriett’s own ridiculous lab coat to immobilise her hands. “She knows some shit,” Amanda panted, “do _not_ let her escape.” 

Martin nodded, his mind fit to explode over the last few minutes. Amanda was alive, and mostly unhurt, and he couldn’t wait to destroy the shitty old house and get them all back to safety. 

It wasn’t long before the Rowdy Three had reduced the enemy forces to groaning or dead lumps on the ground. They howled their victory and Martin clung to Amanda tightly for a few precious moments. She blinked back tears. 

“How sweet,” Harriett mumbled. She was getting drowsy. “Your file doesn’t say anything about your ability to _care_ for others.” 

“Your file is wildly inaccurate,” Amanda informed her, gripping Martin’s hand tightly. She remembered what Minnie had said, something about _the bad man._ “Where is he? Where’s your boss?” 

“Here, and very disappointed,” an elderly man quavered from the stairwell. 

  
*  


Farah glanced at her watch. The Rowdy Three still had time but her flesh was creeping and she couldn’t focus. Something was wrong. She was in the wrong place and her whole body itched with it. 

“What’s happening?” Dirk asked quietly. 

“I don’t know,” Farah’s glance darted everywhere at once. “I need to go inside.” 

“So do I,” Dirk said, “I’ve just got a _feeling_.” 

“You and your feelings. Did you get a feeling you should keep secrets from your family?” 

“I was trying to protect us all. I was wrong to do it and I’ll never stop being sorry.” 

Farah didn’t reply. 

“I grew up in a facility with no friends or family. I’m not very excellent at being a human, or a husband, or a dad.” Dirk was unusually sombre. “I have made so many mistakes to get to this point, where people love me and I love them. Take me in with you. I want to help make this right.” 

“Of course you’re loved,” Farah said at last, “we’re family, and I love you, but we value honesty _as a family_. You need to remember that.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s go. Todd, take this, stay down and do _not_ open the doors for anyone but me.” Farah handed over a gun and climbed out of the van, looking back at her beautiful daughter. “Be good for your dad, sweetie. I love you. We’ll be right back.” 

Dirk kissed Todd swiftly before following Farah to the house. 

  
*  


“Dear Harriett, you made so many promises.” The elderly man walked slowly into the room. 

“You leave us alone, old man,” Martin stood in front of Amanda and the boys, lifting his baseball bat to aim it at the stranger. “We don’t want none of your bullshit. You stay away from us.” 

“Not possible.” He replied simply with a little shrug. “This operation needs a new finder as I get older, and they’re just so hard to come by. The girl is quite, quite necessary for us to continue. I’m sure you understand.” 

“Go to hell,” Amanda retorted. “She’s just a kid! What could you possibly want from her?” 

The old man shook his head slightly. “Her abilities are rare and in quite high demand. Our information indicates that she may be the only finder of a generation.” 

“What information?” Martin demanded. 

“My boy, do you really think we are total novices?” He chuckled. Amanda wanted to smash his face in with the sharp end of a crowbar. “We have certain business interests that are propelled by those with peculiar abilities. We will stop at nothing until she is in our grasp.” 

A single gunshot rang out and a little circle of blood formed on the old man’s forehead. He dropped to the ground. “Like hell,” Farah entered the room with her gun in her hands. “Like hell are you going to get my daughter.” She saw Harriett bound on the floor, probably bleeding out. Her hands started to shake. Behind her was Dirk, his eyes wide as he took in all the carnage. Farah wilted, just a little, and Dirk rushed forward to put an arm around her waist. 

“That was him!” Dirk pointed at the dead old guy. “That was the client!” 

“What did he want?” Amanda asked. 

“He said a business opportunity had availed itself to him and that it would make the CIA very unhappy. Of course I was intrigued,” Dirk admitted, having absolutely zero love for the organisation that repeatedly tried to ruin his life, “and I felt like I just had to hear it for myself. Of course, it wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.” He paused, reflecting. “Not quite the worst though to be totally fair. And I did have quite a bit of time to ruminate on the possibilities.” 

“Who is he?” Amanda prompted. 

“Oh, right.” Dirk returned to the moment. “The best I can figure is that he heads – or head _ed_ – a private business using people like me for nefarious gains, which probably includes stealing from the CIA on occasion and thereby accounting for the dimensional doorway situation earlier. Without full use of the CIA’s resources, however, finding people like me becomes a challenge. That’s where he as a ‘finder’ comes into it, I suppose. He can track down anyone. Anywhere.” Dirk looked around the room. The Rowdies didn’t make a great audience at the best of times and the woman he recognised from Minnie’s kindy was losing consciousness. “Tough crowd. Anyway,” he continued, “he’s clearly about a hundred and the business needs to continue, so he goes hunting for a replacement finder. It turns out our Minnie is such a one.” 

“So how do we keep her safe?” Farah asked quietly. 

“Burnin’ this place to the ground would be a start.” Martin volunteered. He pulled a lighter from his jeans pocket and lit a cigarette. 

“If we destroy their headquarters, as this appears to be,” Dirk looked around at the computers, “it will certainly give us some time.” 

“How much time?” Farah insisted. 

“I don’t know. Enough to hide, I hope.” Dirk met Farah’s eyes squarely. “I’m so sorry about all of this, Farah.” 

“On the plus side, you’re not alone,” Amanda said with a grim smile. 

“What in the _hell_ is goin’ on here?” Estevez emerged from behind Dirk and Farah with his gun raised. “Why is it that whenever there’s some weird ass shit goin’ down I find you bunch of freaks?” 

“Good to see you too.” Farah smiled tightly. 

Estevez took in the corpses and the now unconscious, tied up lady, and rubbed his eyes. “What the hell, y’all. What the hell. I moved out of the city for a quiet life and here you are. Jesus Christ.” 

“They tried to kidnap my daughter,” Farah explained. 

“They _did_ kidnap me!” Dirk cried. 

“They held me hostage and then tried to kill me.” Amanda added. 

Estevez just looked at them all with a deadpan expression. “Get out of here. I’ll clean this shit up. Just go.” 

“We have to hide,” Farah told him. “They’re going to keep coming for my daughter. Please, Estevez.” 

This time, Estevez looked heavenward. Divine intervention hadn’t ever come down before but there was always the hope that this time might be different. After a moment he sighed. “I’ll call you in the morning. If even half of what you says checks out, we should be able to do somethin’ for you.” 

“You’ll need her,” Amanda nudged the ex-teacher with her foot. “Make sure you pass on what she tells you.” 

“Fine. Now get out of here.” Estevez radioed for backup as Farah, Dirk and the Rowdy Three left. 

They approached the van and turned back in time to see Estevez drag the former teacher out. Tendrils of smoke curled out of the windows on the ground floor. 

“Was that Estevez or you?” Farah asked. 

Amanda shrugged nonchalantly. “Who knows? A fire would suit him just as well as us.” 

Farah looked around, clearly uncomfortable. 

“What is it?” Amanda asked. She watched Farah blink erratically at the gloomy surroundings. Farah’s gaze flickered over an old tree. The frame of Amanda’s vision containing the tree flashed across her eyes and she gasped. A lone enemy emerged from behind the tree, gun held to Minnie’s head. Her dark eyes were wide in fear. 

“Drop your weapons,” the stranger ordered. 

Farah immediately shed her guns. “Please don’t hurt her.” She whispered. 

“What have you done to Todd?” Dirk asked in a dangerously low voice. 

A gun fired and the enemy gaped at the blood spilling across his chest. Todd appeared behind him and pushed him forward, pulling Minnie away. His gunshot wound had bled through the binding and he swayed. One eye was dangerously close to swollen shut. 

Dirk rushed forward to catch them both. “No more chances,” he said hurriedly, “everyone in the van!” Cross picked up Todd and carried him into the van while Farah followed, holding Minnie. 

They sped off into the night, Amanda sitting right by Martin in the front seat with a fresh gun in her hands. 

“Do you think it’s safe enough to go home, just to get a few things?” Farah asked over the roar of the van engine. 

Amanda turned to look at her closely. “How does your paranoia feel about it?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“It’s time we acknowledged this particular elephant. You’ve always been hyper vigilant and, frankly, paranoid,” Amanda said, “but it’s always been for a reason. You knew something was up when that guy had Minnie. You always know when something is _up_. So, can you tell if the house is safe?” 

“I don’t, I don’t know,” Farah shook her head as chaotic thoughts threatened to overwhelm her. 

“Dirk, what’s the universe telling _you_ right now?” Amanda tried. 

He sat in the back, cradling Todd in his lap. “Home.” He said, closing his eyes. He stroked the side of Todd’s face carefully. 

There was no spike of fear through Farah. She nodded. “Let’s go.” 

  
*  


Shattered pieces of multiple vehicles littered the front lawn, but all the corpses were gone. No cops were there and it had been hours since the pitched battle took place. 

The Black-Brotzman-Gently family rushed to fill bags with whatever they could find. Farah’s paranoia had ensured she had a go bag ready in her closet with emergency supplies and hard drives backing up the last five years of their lives. Amanda tried to help while the rest of the Rowdies guarded Todd and Minnie in the van. It didn’t take long for Farah and Dirk to be ready. 

Amanda waited in the hall for Dirk and he looked back inside with a sigh. He’d loved the house, buying furniture for it, picking out incredibly ugly drapes and burning things in the oven. Having a place of his own to fill with love and family and memories had meant more than the world to him. 

“Family is what makes home, Dirk,” Amanda said quietly, “and your family aren’t going anywhere. Even when they’re mad at you.” She cast a quick glance at Farah. They turned to leave and Martin met Amanda at the door. 

“You’ll miss this place?” He asked. 

“Kind of. I like having a real bed sometimes.” Amanda smiled, pulling him toward the van. “Suburbia’s fine to visit but I do _not_ want to live there.” 

The black cat trotted around their feet and hopped into the back of the van with a quiet chrrp. 

  
*  


Martin drove them out of Seattle and they waited out the rest of the night in a park. Todd’s grazed arm was finally scabbing over, and he was buried into a cocoon of blankets and pillows in the back of the van with Farah and Minnie. Dirk and Amanda sat on the little ledge looking out at the Rowdies drinking by a small fire. There was always a fire with them. He had a blanket around his shoulders and Amanda snuggled into her jacket. 

“You know what I first thought when that guy called me?” Dirk asked quietly. 

“Nope.” 

“I thought, _good. Revenge_.” Dirk sighed. “I’m a tiny, insignificant little leaf blowing throughout the whole of creation. Why on earth did I think that I’d be allowed a little justice? I nearly got them all killed.” A tear or three rolled down his cheeks. 

“Hey,” Amanda put her arm around his shoulders, “it’s only natural to want revenge, Dirk. Especially after everything you’ve been through.” 

“It’s not who I am though, is it?” He said bitterly. “I don’t get to have justice.” 

“You’re right. It’s not who you are.” Amanda agreed. Dirk stared. “Who you are is fundamentally _good_ and it’s not in your nature to hurt people. Even those who deserve it.” 

“But it’s in _your_ nature?” 

“Kind of,” Amanda smiled, “we’re very different people, Dirk. I’m an instrument of fortune and chaos, my boys are instruments of chaos,” she smiled even bigger when she caught Martin’s eye, “and it looks like Farah is an instrument of protection.” 

“So where does that leave me?” 

“An instrument of change.” Amanda hugged his shoulders. “It’s because of you that I have my family and the absolute love of my life. It’s because of you that Todd is happy, properly happy, in his own skin. It’s because of you that Minnie has the most amazing parents a girl could ask for. We all have this weird connection to each other that started with _you_ and I wouldn’t change a single moment of it.” 

Dirk sniffled with a little smile. “The love of your life?” He risked a glance at the berserker by the fire that was watching them over the top of his glasses. 

“You have _no_ idea.” 

“I might.” Dirk disagreed. “What next for you lot?” 

Amanda shrugged. “See where the universe takes us, I guess.” 

“Do you think, perhaps, the universe might want you with us for a bit?” 

“Maybe.” Amanda nodded. “Just don’t expect us to blend seamlessly into some sort of suburban coma. I’m begging you.” 

Dirk smiled a bit smugly. “Maybe I got just a teensy bit of revenge after all.” 

With a soft laugh Amanda shoved him off and left him on the edge of the van. “We’ll keep watch til morning. Get some rest.” She went to the fireside and sat next to Martin on the grass, fitting into his side. He pressed his face into her hair and closed his eyes, contented at last. 

Dirk smiled properly and climbed into the warm sleepy nest, wrapping long arms around his husband and sighing happily. 

“I think you’re a pretty good dad,” Todd said sleepily, “and definitely an excellent husband.” He kissed Dirk softly and went back to sleep. 

Dirk held Todd to him tightly. Whatever the morning brought, his family was around him and everything was probably going to be alright.


End file.
